


My Favorite American

by sandys18 (orphan_account)



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Comedy, Drunk!Felicity, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Jealous!Oliver, Oliver talking Russian, Romance, Romantic Comedy, They are still in Russia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-06
Updated: 2014-10-06
Packaged: 2018-02-20 03:52:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2414006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/sandys18
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in 2x06. After Team Arrow rescues Lyla, they all go out for drinks withe Knyazev. (Oliver's Russian friend.) Felicity is still angry at Oliver for sleeping with Isabel and she somehow thinks getting drunk might help her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Favorite American

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters or anything else you might find familiar. 
> 
> Huge thanks to KarenfrmMD for betaing this story.
> 
> Thanks so much to Katerinasoul for helping with the Russian dialogues.
> 
> Translations for the Russian Dialogues are at the end.

Felicity took her fur hat off and placed it on her lap. "So this is where you two came for a drink earlier?" She looked about.

The Russian bar was exactly what she had envisioned. It was dark, filled with smoke and mystery. The handsome Russian men that eyed her, didn't escape her notice either. Oliver's glare casted on all the men at the bar, convinced her that she probably wasn't the only one to have spotted them.

It was times like these that made her question Oliver Queen's intentions. It was at times like these, she couldn't understand just why Oliver Queen had to sleep with the enemy.

"Is the young lady up for a bit of drinking?" Knyazev's question sounded more like a challenge.

She snuck a glance at Oliver, who was sitting beside her. "Tonight… I'm up for anything that can help me forget some of the crazy things I witnessed."

Oliver shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Her words seemed to have gotten to him as expected. A triumphant smile crept into her lips at the sight of his sulking face.

"Hear, Hear!" Lyla agreed, "I might also need a more than a few drinks to forget what I saw in that prison…"

Diggle wrapped an arm around Lyla and drew her closer to him. "You should be resting in the hotel."

Lyla looked up at him with a reassuring smile. "I really don't want to be cooped up in a hotel room, after being in that cell for so long." She entwined her fingers with Diggle's.

The soft smiles that passed between the couple seated in front, somehow made Felicity more aware of the very little space left between Oliver and herself. She let her mind wander for a moment, about how it would feel to have Oliver's strong arm around her, how it would feel to hold his hand.

"Very well then…" Their Russian friend snapped his fingers to call a waitress and Felicity jolted back to reality. The reality, where Oliver Queen had slept with a woman the likes of, 'Isabel Rochev'.

"Don't say I didn't warn you, the Vodka here is much stronger than what we get back at home." Oliver cautioned in Felicity's ear.

She felt her heartbeat raise as his breath caressed her skin, sending little sparks of electricity down her spine. Yet In spite of it all, she managed to keep her expression reduced just to an eye roll. "Stronger the better!" She stated confidently, slapping the table with her hand. The small salt shaker that stood at the center of the table wobbled as a result and Oliver stilled it with his hand.

Not a moment too soon, a waitress dressed in a tight fitted red dress, with her lips painted in an even darker shade of red, stood before them. Her accent was slightly better than Knyazev's. "What can I get you sir?"

The waitress' eyes lingered on Oliver a moment longer than they did on the rest of the men. Instinctively, Felicity's gaze turned to Oliver. To her surprise, she found his gaze not to be upon the woman in the sexy red dress, but on plain old her- his IT girl turned EA.

A strange expression flashed in Oliver's face, when he realized that Felicity was looking at him. He quickly looked elsewhere.

 _*1_ "Prinesite yeshche po ryumochke dlya vsekh!," Knyazev said to the waitress in a commanding voice.

The waitress walked away swaying her hips quite deliberately. Most probably to capture the attention of the men sitting at the table.

Soon after, they found themselves going for a second round of drinks, then thirds, then fourths and so on. The first shot of vodka was the hardest. But drunker Felicity got, easier it became for her to pour the bitter drink down her throat.

"Don't you think you've had enough?" Oliver nagged just as Felicity had finished her seventh or maybe the eighth shot. Or maybe even more. She had lost count.

She glared at Oliver for a second. "Nope!" She said. This little act of rebellion was her own way of avenging his betrayal. The low protesting hums she heard escape his lips spurred her on and she turned to Knyazev. "Another round?" She by no means was planning to listen to Oliver's little forewarnings any time soon.

Knyazev's eyes gleamed hearing her request. "If she keeps drinking like this… I'm sorry Oliver, but she just might become my most favorite American. And you'll have to settle for being my second favorite." He handed her the glass, which the waitress had just brought to the table.

Felicity took the small glass with both her hands.

*2"Vse otlichno ! Ona i moya lyubimaya amerikanka." Oliver uttered something in Russian and winked at his mob friend.

Knyazev looked back at Oliver rather amusedly. *3"Ya ne udivlen. Ona ocharovatel'na!"

Felicity scowled at her boss as she tried her best to decipher his expression and his Russian. Unable to do neither, she tipped her head backwards and finished the shot of vodka in one go.

She closed her eyes as the drink slowly burnt her insides. When her eyes flew back open, she found her vision to have gone awry and the room to be spinning. Amidst the buzzing in her ear, she could faintly hear a song. She put her index finger to her lips and shushed everyone at the table. She needed everyone to be quiet so that she could hear it more clearly.

"What is it?" Diggle looked around. Protective soldier mode was activated.

"I think that's my favorite song!" She said as she swung her head to the Russian song she had never heard before.

"You do realize that song is in Russian?" Oliver pointed out with a smirk.

"What do you mean? It can't be my favorite song just because it's in Russian?" She frowned at Oliver.

"She's got a point Oliver," Diggle laughed and Lyla joined in.

Oliver shook his head disapprovingly and finally drank his glass of vodka that had been sitting in front of him for over an hour.

Felicity scoffed at the billionaire. However, the problem was she could see two Oliver Queens. And suddenly, they started to move making it harder for her to focus. "Stop moving!" She ordered. She caught him smiling at her confusion, which in turn only made her loathe his gorgeous face more. She shook her head madly. Then the two heads merged and became one again.

"What do you say? Shall we dance to Felicity's favorite song?" Lyla took Diggle's hand and stood up.

"I rather fight those Russian guards again." Diggle whined, but Lyla was already taking him to the little empty place next to the bar.

"Aren't you two going to join your friends?" Knyazev asked tasting his vodka.

Oliver let out an exasperated sigh. "I think I'm going to sit this one out."

Knyazev turned to Felicity and smoothed his beard with his hand. "What about you?"

Felicity eyed Lyla and Diggle rather enviously. She wanted to dance. She was in the mood to dance. The vodka in her was egging her to. It was her favorite song that was playing, after all. "I don't have anyone to dance wi-" Before she could finish the sentence, a handsome Russian man was standing in front of her.

The chiseled jawed man with perfect hair and body, put his hand forth asking for her hand. "Dance?"

"Sure!" Felicity couldn't help but smile dreamily at the green eyed Russian.

"Then that solves that problem." Knyazev commented sneaking a look over at Oliver.

"You're really going to dance with him? Even if 'Dance' might be the only English word he knows?" Oliver grumbled in a voice, which only Felicity could hear.

"It's not like we're going to discuss politics." Felicity got up throwing her hat at Oliver's face.

He caught the hat and squished it, as if he wanted to see nothing but the little fur thing in his hand dead.

Feeling lightheaded Felicity quickly caught on to the handsome Russian man's hand to balance herself.

"Have fun!" Oliver sang, giving her room so that she could go around the table and dance with the Russian.

"Oh I will!" She retorted and she almost tripped on her own foot as she walked off with her dance partner.

The Russian put his hands on Felicity's waist and she didn't think twice to drape her arms around his neck. They were standing too intimately for two people who just met, but Felicity didn't care. She was too drunk to care. In any case, if she wasn't holding on to the man as she was, she knew she would have tumbled to the floor.

The Russian swayed with her to the music. However, she could swear that everything around her was swinging along with them.

His green eyes directed her focus to their table at the corner. "Boyfriend?" He asked in his heavy accent.

She looked back at the table. Oliver was staring at both of them. She could spot his angry face even if she was drunk. He looked like he was planning to arrow someone. "No… No… he's not… we're not… we're just… he's just my boss…"

Russian stared at her almost hungrily and she gulped.

"Good..." He whispered in a low voice as his hands slowly began to travel down from her waist to her hips.

Felicity wriggled in his arms feeling somewhat uneasy. "I think it's enough dancing for tonight!"

Her request seemed to have only made the man grip her even tightly. "You and I… we have fun tonight!" His words sounded more like a demand than a suggestion.

"I don't want to dance anymore!" She tried to move away, but he didn't let her.

"Let her go!" Oliver's voice roared behind her.

Her dance partner simply scoffed and continued to dance with her.

*4"Ne glupi I prosto ischezni, poka ya ne poteryal terpenie!" Oliver commanded. Felicity may not have understood him, but the tone of his voice scared her.

The Russian's hands loosened a little bit, but not completely. "You not scare me!" He claimed.

"If I were you I would listen to him." Diggle placed his hand on her dancing partner's shoulder.

The Russian looked back at Oliver.

*5"Mne sejchas tebya udarit' ili pust' Bratva sdelaet e'to posle za menya?" Oliver threatened again.

The Russian slowly backed away from them. *6"Izvini …she say you are no her boyfriend." He pleaded his case in broken English.

"Let's go back to the hotel!" Oliver grabbed Felicity by her wrist.

"No!" She shoved Oliver to the side and started towards their table. He may have rescued her, but that didn't mean she was going to just forget about what he had done and obey him like a good little IT girl. "I want another drink!" She demanded.

Before Felicity realized what was happening Oliver had scooped her up from her legs and heaved her over his shoulder.

"Put me down!" She threw her limbs in the air, but he carried her out of the bar as if she was a mere lifeless rag doll.

Oliver forcefully put her inside their rented car. "Don't move!" He leaned over to fasten her seat belt.

Felicity nodded. He was so close she couldn't even think about moving. She just sat there overwhelmed by the closeness. Her eyes closed and she began to drift away into a dream land, where Oliver Queen would kiss her after putting her seat belt on for her. And then tear the damn belt away, because he wanted to take her then and there. The vodka really was messing with her mind.

"Felicity?" Oliver whispered.

Felicity's droopy eyes slowly opened to his voice. She saw him stare down at her with his sparkly eyes. "Oliver…" She replied groggily.

"We're here…" He unfastened the seat belt and helped her out of the car.

Felicity looked around and discovered the car was parked in front of the hotel. "Well that was fast." Her legs felt wobbly and her head was still spinning. She leaned closer to him, for support and warmth. His arm wrapped itself around her waist to keep her steady.

The hotel staff was staring at the both of them suspiciously as they walked through the lobby to get to the elevator.

When they stepped into the elevator, she suddenly remembered her hat. "Where's my Shapka?"

"I think it's at the bar." Oliver pressed the button to their floor, while his other hand lingered around the small of her back.

She turned around and pulled him towards her with the lapels of his coat. "I gave it to you to keep it safe!" She huffed at a strand of unruly hair that had fallen to her face. "I can't trust you to even take care of my hat!"

"I'm sure Dig will bring it with him." Oliver smiled as he gently removed her hands from his coat and tucked the irritating strand behind her ear once and for all.

Felicity leaned back to the elevator wall with her arms folded in front of her chest. She pouted at her boss. "I loved that hat." She didn't have much control of herself and she felt herself slide down to her right, along the wall.

Oliver caught her by her arm. "Fine! I promise I'll text Diggle and remind him… right after I get you to your room."

"You better!" She collapsed into his strong chest when the elevator unexpectedly came to a standstill and the doors opened. "You're so hard!" She said as her hands skated on his well-toned body. She only realized that she had once again said something embarrassing, when she saw Oliver's all too familiar half-smile.

She was drunk and she felt she was allowed to make those slipups, without needing to feel awkward about it. So, she gave up on correcting her words.

Oliver took her through the long corridor that led to her room. It took them forever to reach her room. She felt that either the corridor had gotten longer than it was in the morning or the room was moving farther away from them, more they walked.

"Where's your key?" Oliver asked.

She fell on to him again. "In my pocket." She pointed at her back pocket.

His hands began to gently scour for the keys. She felt a bit more ticklish than usual and began to giggle wildly.

He took the key out and unlock the door. "Come on, let's go."

"No!" She made her body stiff as she possibly could and stood holding the door ledge. "Not until you tell me what you said to Knyazev earlier!"

"What? When?" He acted as though he had no clue.

"When he said that I might be his favorite American?" She probed his chest with her finger.

"I don't remember." He shrugged and dragged her inside the room.

She freed herself from his grasp. "Liar!" She accused him as she toppled backwards onto her bed, dragging him down with her.

He moved her hair away from her face. "You Ok?"

"No! I'm drunk and you slept with Isabel!" She felt her face burn. She had blurted out her frustrations without meaning to.

"It didn't mean anything… It just…" He stuttered.

Maybe it was because she was too drunk, or maybe because of his guilt ridden face. But, for some reason or the other, she had already forgotten why she had been so mad with him. She pulled him closer by his shirt.

His face was now barely inches away from her. "Felicity, what are you doing?" He asked, but he didn't make any attempts to pull back.

"I don't know." She lifted her head slightly and brushed her lips lightly against his. She slowly drew back and saw him gazing at her. "But I hope I'm too drunk to remember this in the morning. Otherwise this will be too embarrassing. And I might have to quit my day and my night job, both." She garbled as her heavy eye lids slowly began to close.

"Let's hope so…" She could scarcely make out Oliver's slow approaching face. His lips grazed hers just as her eyes closed. *7"Feliciti, prosti … Ya ne hotel tebya obidet'. Ya hotel zashchitit' tebya ot Izabel' … I ot sebya samogo … potomu chto ty' zasluzhivaesh' luchshego. I ty' mne ochen' doroga."

She heard him say in her ear. Though it was in Russian, his words pulled on her heart strings as though she knew the meaning of each and every word. "I love you… not love love… maybe…it is… I'm too drunk to be sure." She muttered as she fell into a deep slumber.

**Author's Note:**

> Translations:
> 
> *1"Bring us a round of drinks,"
> 
> *2"That's perfectly alright. She just might be my favorite American too,"
> 
> *3"I'm not surprised. She's adorable."
> 
> *4"Just do the smart thing and leave before I lose my patience!"
> 
> *5"Should I break your hands now or should I let Bratva take care of you later?"
> 
> *6"Sorry…"
> 
> *7"I'm sorry, Felicity… I didn't want to hurt you I just wanted to protect you from Isabel and… most of all from me… because you deserve better. Because I care about you too much…"


End file.
